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Today we merrily went to IKEA to pick up the TV stand I've been craving, only to discover that it was too big to take on the bus home! Woe. But! I decided I would no longer put up with the glued-and-stapled mess of boards and wax cloth we've had since we moved here and put the rest of my birthday money towards getting it delivered. And we got $20 off, by showing a bus ticket! God and me, we're pals.
So! Things are looking up a little at Casa Roily. My precious couch cover should show up any day now, too. I know the kitties are already sharpening their claws in anticipation. They will be dealt with.
Speaking of kitties, Busy demands to be let into the bedroom every morning and then it's cuddle time. He steps very gingerly and politely and makes requests with soft little paws. If you wiggle your toes, he will politely attack them. If you make a sudden move, he will jump three feet in the air and his tail will foof like a feather duster. (My hubby has way too much fun with that.)
His cuddle time must be done sans Markus, because once HE's inside the door, it's every man for himself. There's nothing polite about Markus' approach. He will walk all over your tender parts, scratch his way under your blanket and burrow in, blithely flexing his claws on whatever piece of skin he can reach. Just try to remove him - I dare you. He will cling to the sheets, to the covers, to the carpet, to you. He will lay down on his back with his claws out. And he will scream like you're cutting his umbilical cord.
I love them.
I took a Sex ID test on the BBC site and apparently, my brain is pretty male. Whoda thunk? It was spurred by this. The debate in the comment section - as with most debates - makes me want to skip the gender thing entirely. SCIENCE SAYS a whole lot of contradictory things, apparently.
I need to pee.
So! Things are looking up a little at Casa Roily. My precious couch cover should show up any day now, too. I know the kitties are already sharpening their claws in anticipation. They will be dealt with.
Speaking of kitties, Busy demands to be let into the bedroom every morning and then it's cuddle time. He steps very gingerly and politely and makes requests with soft little paws. If you wiggle your toes, he will politely attack them. If you make a sudden move, he will jump three feet in the air and his tail will foof like a feather duster. (My hubby has way too much fun with that.)
His cuddle time must be done sans Markus, because once HE's inside the door, it's every man for himself. There's nothing polite about Markus' approach. He will walk all over your tender parts, scratch his way under your blanket and burrow in, blithely flexing his claws on whatever piece of skin he can reach. Just try to remove him - I dare you. He will cling to the sheets, to the covers, to the carpet, to you. He will lay down on his back with his claws out. And he will scream like you're cutting his umbilical cord.
I love them.
I took a Sex ID test on the BBC site and apparently, my brain is pretty male. Whoda thunk? It was spurred by this. The debate in the comment section - as with most debates - makes me want to skip the gender thing entirely. SCIENCE SAYS a whole lot of contradictory things, apparently.
I need to pee.
